


Just needing a change

by Brooklyns_Late



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Past Relationship, Friendship, Hair Dye, Platonic Relationships, Self Loathing, punching walls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:28:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23332390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brooklyns_Late/pseuds/Brooklyns_Late
Summary: Albert gets in his head and makes some rash decisions. But Race is there for him.A late entry for day 2 of the #NewsiesQuarantineProject
Relationships: Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins, Platonic Ralbert - Relationship, Racetrack Higgins & Albert DaSilva
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	Just needing a change

Albert stared into the mirror, fiddling with the box on the counter as he contemplated actually taking his hat off.

He wouldn't be able to do anything if he left it on, but he wouldn't have to look at himself either.  
He picked up the box and read the instructions for the tenth time in probably about a half hour. It seemed easy enough that is, if he could bring himself to take off his hat...  
He grabbed his old denim baseball cap, glaring at his reflection as his hair tumbled out of it, messy and shaggy and too long and too...  
He read over the instructions one last time.

* * *

The door was unlocked. Albert must have been home.  
It wasn't uncommon that his best friend beat him home, but on a Friday? He usually went out.  
Friday's were the days that Race got out of class an hour before Albert, hit the grocery store, tried out some new recipe for dinner and by the time it was ready, Al would be home and they'd eat on the couch and watch movies.  
It wasn't much, but he liked their Friday routine.  
He ventured into the appartment and noticed Albert wasn't in the main room, maybe his bedroom? Sometimes if he had a lot of work to do he'd lock himself away in there. It would explain why he was home early too so Race figured that must be it and set to unloading his groceries.  
He'd barely made it halfway through the bag before he stopped.  
Albert always blasted music when he was trying to concentrate.  
They'd been lucky with their appartment but not so lucky that you couldn't clearly hear Alan Doyle from every room in the house when Albert was cramming.  
Race stuck the tub of ice cream in the freezer quickly and went to check on his friend.  
He was halfway to Albert's room when he heard a noise behind him. He stopped, listening carefully.  
This proved to be unnecessary when the same sound from before, what sounded like a muffled sob, was prefaced with a loud thud from the bathroom. He'd found Albert, he was sure.  
And he was quite sure it was a good thing he had.

* * *

Fuck everything. He'd read the box a thousand times and done exactly what it'd said to do and still everything went wrong.  
Frustrated, he turned where he was sitting and punched the wall, hard, before flopping back against it, another pathetic sob managing to escape. He was sure he'd made another dent in the wall, but he didn't care. Just one more thing he fucked up.  
Eric was right. He was pathetic.  
A knock at the door made him jump, startling him out of his thoughts.  
He grabbed his hat and pulled it quickly on, covering up the mess.  
He hadn't locked the door. He didn't have the energy to lock it now.  
Maybe Race would leave him alone anyway.

* * *

"Al?" Race knocked again, gently. "You ok in there?"  
He could faintly hear ragged breathing through the door, but no answer. "I'm coming in ok?"  
There was still no answer, so he took it as acceptance and cracked the door open.  
As suspected, Albert was there. He was sitting on the floor against the wall, heels of his palms digging into his eyes, trying to calm himself down. But he was there. And he didn't look injured. Race counted it as a win.  
He sat down on the floor, taking Albert's hands. The bright pink of right knuckles explained the thud Race had heard as another dent being added to their collection on the walls.  
"Wanna talk about it?"  
Albert sighed, his voice barely audible, "I fucked up ok?"  
"That's ok. Not mad. What happened?"  
No answer. Albert averted his eyes, looking dejected and ashamed. Race knew that look. It's was the 'you're going to hate me' look. It must have been something they'd talked about before.  
Race was about to ask again, differently, when a box in the garbage caught his eye. Oh.  
"Can I take a look?"  
At Albert's nod, he reached up and took off his ever-present baseball cap.  
Race had dyed his hair enough in highschool to easily tell most of what had gone wrong. It looked like a rush job, he'd applied it unevenly and taken it out too soon. It was a little streaky and definitely off coloured. It looked a lot like his own when he'd tried it dye his hair with the hour he had before his fosters got home in the ninth grade.  
At least Albert had chosen a more natural colour than bright blue.  
"I changed my mind before it had set. It was stupid I just... I wanted to fix it."  
"Fix what?"  
"This," Albert gestured flippantly up at the hair that was hanging in his eyes, "all this... Shit. I just had to fix it, wanted some kind of chance, I..." He sighed and Race waited, he'd continue on his own. "I was talking with Finch earlier. Talking about... That guy. At the coffee place. You know the one." Race did know the one. Al had been thinking about the barista for weeks, refusing to talk to him. "Convinced me to shoot my shot. Bet fifty bucks I wouldn't do it by Monday and I was going to, I swear, I was gonna go over there after class and talk to him and I was feeling really good about it and then... Eric... got in my head."  
Eric. Of course. Albert had dated Eric Wilson for almost two years in highschool and he still got in his head. Race had hated him then and he still hated him now. Eric had picked at everything he could find about Albert the entire time they were together. Made him feel like shit all the time and Albert had never had the self esteem to fight it in the first place. His favorite thing it seemed, had been to remind Albert how unattractive he thought he was.  
He'd grown out of the awkward, acne prone, skinny runner's form and Race knew Albert was crazy proud of his body, seeing it as a big old "Fuck you" to self-loathing sixteen year old Albert and his shitty boyfriend. But he'd never grown out of his hair. And Race knew it still bothered him from time to time.  
Albert continued, "Figured I had to try and look presentable I guess. Wasn't really thinking about it, it was impulsive and stupid and I knew I fucked up before I was even done and now I'm stuck with this shit."  
"Why didn't you–" Albert cut him off,  
"I didn't even know if I was going through with it until I was. I should've had you do it I know..."  
Race scooted around next to his friend, leaning against him,  
"It's not as bad as you think you know. I can fix it if you want?"  
Despite the fact that he knew full well that Race had been dying his own hair for almost seven years straight, Albert looked shocked.  
"You can do that?"  
Race grinned, "Sure. That is, if you want me to. You're making a statement right now and I'm kinda liking it. We could maintain this."  
Albert chuckled lightly. "I wouldn't mind if you could just fix it. But, maybe tomorrow? It's still Friday night, you owe me dinner."  
"Sounds good. " Race hopped up and helped Albert his feet, handing back his hat. "Now come on, you can help me chop stuff!

* * *

**Bonus**

"Are you sure you don't want me to make it purple?" Race grinned, holding up the bright purple dye next to Albert's head. He was joking but the colour _would_ suit him.

Albert laughed, swatting Race's arm away from his face. "I think I'm gonna stick with the brown for now Racer, I've made enough of a mess as is."

"Well fine. But I'm getting the purple. I think I could pull it off."

"I'm not paying for that one you know."

"Of course you're not. You aren't paying for the brown either."

Albert paused. "What are you talking about? Of course I am. It was my mistake."

"Yes but part of the reason you did it was for a boy and I am not only your best friend but also a hopeless romantic so naturally it's my job to help and if you don't let me pay then I'll make you make your own dinner all week."

Albert rolled his eyes and conceded.

Really, all that mattered to Race was that Albert had been smiling all day.


End file.
